The sealed Journal
by ItY'girl
Summary: "I loved him first….but my loyalty would always belong to another"- Read the trapped secrets of Uzumaki Mito, forever closed within the pages of her sealed journal. Humans are never simple creatures. MadaraxMitoxHashirama
1. Tea

**A/N: Ok so ever since I wrote the opening scenes of chapter 33 in** **Pain and Hope** **I've had this story taking root inside my brain. So, unable to keep it bottled up anymore, I put it on paper. This is for me a further in-depth level of Pain and Hope, though it is easily a standalone story. The premise would be that these are things which happened in Uzumaki Mito's past.**

 **At the beginning, and all that is written in italics are passages of her secret, sealed journal. It is then followed by a scene detailing the happenings of that journal entry.**

 **Now we all know how this will end, but we don't know how it began! And in my canon, Mito and Hashirama are two very different people. So if you want to see a very human story about love, betrayal and loyalty, take a peek!**

* * *

-Tea-

.

 _When I was 15, I was informed that by the time I am 17 I will be married and sent to another country. I met my future husband that very same day. He was older than me by a few winters, but he had a spark in his eyes that spoke of many battles fought and of many loved ones lost._

 _I was the daughter of one of the three Uzushio councilmen and have been taught form cradle the intricacies of politics, etiquette and restrain among the theories of seals and chakra values. I have always known that I will marry for political reasons, most likely to a Damyio or a village leader that would fancy the exotic notion of having an Uzumaki wife. When Ashina-sama, our esteemed Uzukage told me that there was interest for my hand in marriage, I held both excitement and apprehension in my heart. What was to await for me behind the village boundaries? What manner of man will my future husband be?_

 _I did not have to wait long to find out… and much more…._

 _._

* * *

 _._

"You have to be perfect today." Said Mito's mother as she brushed her long, crimson hair. "Remember, Hashirama-dono and Ashina-sama are entering a very important understanding. Our clan and the Senju go back from the time of our ancestor."

"Yes mother." Fifteen year old Mito knew well of the connections between the Uzumaki and the Senju. She had spent her entire life learning of the world's clans, of their politics and the turmoil of war happening outside the safety of her village. But today was the first step of many that she will take in the outside world. Today was the first day of her new life.

They were to meet for the first time at midday, following the preliminary discussions between Ashina-sama and Hashirama, the newly appointed leader of the Senju clan. She waited in the tea room of the main house, exchanging a few words with Ashina-sama's wife Shirai.

The woman was much younger than her elderly husband, but for the Uzumaki that played no role. Their village was the village of longevity, their clan the clan of long lives. What for most would be a lifetime, for the Uzumaki was merely half of it. Ashina-sama himself was in his fiftieth year of life, yet by Uzumaki standards he was in the springtime of his life. Fact which was clearly noticeable by the already noticeable baby bump she had.

"How is pregnancy treating you, Shirai-sama?"

Shirai gave the young girl a kind smile as she stroked her belly. "Ah Mito-chan, after five children pregnancy no longer holds any surprises."

Mito giggled girlishly, yet when the door of the tea room slid open she straightened immediately, years of etiquette lessons snapping her to attention. He back was straight, her large eyes pointed to the floor. With the corner of her eye she saw Shirai retreat through a side door. Once she heard the footsteps of the guests she made a deep, formal bow and spoke in an even, pleasant tone.

"We are honoured to welcome you in our village and home Senju-dono." And waited.

"Ah… ahem." Was the answer that greeted her and Mito had to use all her sense of restrain to keep her bow. "Don't forget my companion."

At that she could not take it anymore, her curiosity eating away any type of restrain. And as she looked up she saw the room's occupants. The man with long, chocolate coloured hair and strong chiselled jaw could only be Senju Hashirama. Even if his looks were not a clear indication of his heritage, the bandana tied around his forehead was a dead giveaway. He was handsome, strikingly so, with warm eyes and a kind smile.

That is when her eyes travelled to the man sitting one step behind Hashirama and looking as if the room had done him personal harm. He was tall, maybe even taller than Hashirama himself, with long midnight black hair that seemed chopped around the edges as if he could not care less how his hair looked like. And where Hashirama was all broad chinned and strong jawed, this man was made of sharp angles and high cheekbones. And yet the most striking thing about him were his eyes, as dark as tar and as hard as diamond. One look at him and Mito already knew of his allegiance, thought she was definitely surprised to have such a man here.

"My deepest apologies Uchiha-dono, I had not known that you will come as well."

Uchiha Madara turned to look at the slip of a girl from the corner of his eye. He hated these frivolous encounters and right now he despised Hashirama for dragging him into it. Sure, the meeting with the Uzukage was interesting to say the least, but this…. Why did he have to be there when Hashirama chatted away with his silly future wife? She most likely had nothing to say anyway and was being catered away as a means to seal the deal. Yes, such things made him think that he would never, ever take a wife. Women were nothing but distractions in the way on one's goals. And now that peace had been made, he and Hashirama had a goal. They had a village to build. A silly useless wife would only be a hindrance.

So he scowled at the girl, because she was nothing more than a girl, and answered in a dismissive tone. "Let's get on with this Hashirama, there are more important things to do."

Mito bristled at the man's answer, though she did not show it. She was raised better than that. She was raised with proper etiquette and restraint, and that restraint will not be snapped by one man's rudeness. Little did Mito know that her patience and restraint would be put to a truly dire test that day.

"I take it that the discussions have been fortuitous." Said Mito as she meticulously began the long and highly traditional tea ceremony.

Hashirama's voice boomed in the quiet room. "Oh yeah! Ashina is one tough cookie, but I bet that he liked our proposition. What do you say, Madara?"

Madara nodded and answered with a muted 'yes' in response, knowing to respect the traditional silent and subdued atmosphere of a typical tea ceremony. He instead opted to follow the girl's graceful, soothing movements, flowing like water over the utensils. He could see the small frown on the corner of her mouth and smirked as its source once more spoke louder than he should have.

"What did ya say? Oh well, I'm sure all will be good. Nice village you're having here… ummm…." Hashirama suddenly blushed, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish gesture.

Madara felt the need to slap his forehead, or at least roll his eyes at his friend's pitiful display. No wonder he had to go into an arranged marriage, on his own he would have no chance. With another look at the girl he could see that her future husband's mishap had struck a nerve.

As she answered her voice was a tad strained. "Mito, Hashirama-dono." Not by much, but if one had an ear for details, it was noticeable.

Luckily Hashirama did not notice such a detail. Instead he laughed it off and, feeling suddenly in need of stuffing his face with something, anything so that he won't talk again, he grabbed one of the rice cakes from the table and started eating.

Mito felt like she was going to have a heart attack, her hands freezing mid-motion as she heard the crunch of the Rakugan being devoured in one sit. What was thins man? Had he been raised under a rock or something? Was this…this uncouth, loud man to be her husband? When he spoke again she swore she will kill him.

"Those were good!" said Hashirama mid-chew. "Got anymore?"

That was it. Madara could not stand him digging his whole deeper and deeper. Maybe in the end Hashirama knew why he insisted that he come to this meeting. The poor man was in over his head. Well, it was his fault really for wanting to marry one of high birth. If someone were to ask Madara himself, he thought Hashirama would have done better with one of the soldiers, a girl that would understand his quirks and find them charming. Because so far the current intended looked like she would soon pop a vein. His friend was definitely doomed.

So with a sigh Madara leaned over and plucked the plate out of his hands as he spoke in a levelled tone. "These are Rakugan. You're supposed to eat only one with the tea."

Hashirama froze, the colour flooding his entire face as he slowly placed the plate on the floor. He made sure from then on to not utter a single word, and as Mito finally finished the tea ceremony and gave each of them and ornate cup, she tossed a grateful look in Madara's direction. He bent his head, acknowledging her thanks, though he felt it was not needed. He had learned the importance of a good tea ceremony from his mother, through long hours of meditation and softly recited poems. That is, until death took her.

As the hours dragged by and the cups were emptied, Mito bowed slightly toward her guests, speaking in a levelled tone. "Thank you for joining me today, Hashirama-dono, Uchiha-dono. I wish you a safe voyage back on the mainland and I will count the days until your return."

Madara smirked at the practiced speech she gave. It almost made him believe that she meant it. Almost. Still, he stood, bowed formally, shoved Hashirama to do the same and replied in an equally levelled tone. "It was a pleasure lady Mito." He turned to leave, but then saw that Hashirama was still standing there, gathering his courage to do or say something.

When Madara saw his friend's shoulders square in that stubborn way of his, he intervened before it was too late. With one step he was right behind Hashirama, his right hand buried in his hair as he forcefully pushed his head in a half bow. "My companion is tired, we will retire now."

As soon as they were out the door, Hashirama turned to him with a hurt look, his eyes brimming with tears. "Why did you do that? I wanted to apologise and make it all better!"

This time Madara did give into the need to facepalm. "Are you out of your mind! I saw what you were thinking of doing! You wanted to grab her hands or something equally stupid!"

"So?"

This was slowly but surely losing its entertaining value. "Were you raised under a rock? You don't just grab a lady's hands like that without permission! And definitely not when you have barely met and made a total fool of yourself! Have you forgotten what they say about this clan?"

At his friend's words, Hashirama deflated like a punctured balloon. "Oh you're right, I made a complete fool of myself back there! She was all grace and beauty, like some sort of goddess and I stood there with the manners of a peasant."

"Actually you were worse than a peasant."

"Madara, what will I do? I'm supposed to marry this girl and I can't even talk to her without shoving a foot in my mouth."

Madara rolled his eyes. Really, since when did he become relationship councillor?

Back in the tea ceremony room Mito was gnashing her teeth so hard that she thought they might break. She was supposed to marry that-that…. Savage? Tears gathered in her eyes, but she stubbornly pushed them away. She knew that her fate was sealed and she would have to make the best of it.

* * *

 **A/N: So... should I go on? Let me know what you think in a comment**


	2. Letters

**A/N: Beyond all thought, here I am with a new chapter! :D Thank you all for the great response! I have to say, I don't have any big plans for this story, I will just let it flow however if flows. This is mostly a stress relief from the recent Pain and Hope chapters which have taken a quite heavy and dark turn... need something light.**

 **Also, there will be no Hashirama bashing here. I love him in his silly, honest way!**

 **So, without further ado, here we go!**

* * *

-Letters-

 _It took two further years until I was to be married and begin a new life with my husband. In that time I took to meditating with Shirai, Ashina-sama's wife. She taught me much, and I will forever be grateful for her friendship, her words of wisdom and her lessons._

 _And at such, a month after the disastrous first meeting, I had decided to stop wallowing in misery at my fate and do something about it. If my future husband was not to my liking, then I will make him so, or so I thought._

 _That is when the letters started. I have to give it to my dear Hashirama, he was not that much better in writing as he was in person._

 _._

* * *

 _._

"Mito-sama, a message arrived." Said one of the house servants with a bow.

Intrigued, Mito grabbed the scroll, looking it over. She had just returned from a meditation session with Shirai-san and was on her way to her sealing class. Among the high ranks of Uzushio Mito was the most gifted at the clan's ancient art of sealing. She had begun creating her own seals when she was merely eleven years of age, and four years later she was a master in her own right and had taken to teaching the younger generations about it. Even now she was constantly gathering chakra in a seal of her own making, storing it in a point on her forehead. Soon she will have it ready.

She dismissed the servant girl and stepped inside her chambers, her kimono shuffling as she glided over the floor. She had recognized the seal on the scroll immediately. It was the Senju family crest. With piqued interest, Mito opened the scroll and scanned its contents.

Scanned and cringed.

 _My dearest betrothed,_

 _I miss you more with each passing second, and I see your face everywhere. The blood of my enemies reminds me of your crimson hair, the grey of the ashes making me think of your eyes. And… and… and the song of the rooster that woke me up this morning reminds me of your wonderful voice!_

Her eyebrow twitched. Did he just compare her with a chicken? How dare he? Who did this guy think he was, and who wrote things like that? Comparing her hair with blood and… and… And that terrible hand writing! Was he holding the brush with his feet?

It was sufficient to say that she had worked quite the fury at the first lines gracing the scroll. What she also noticed with dread was that the letter went on and on and on for what could only be two meters! What did this man have to say so much?

As it turned out, Hashirama had quite a lot to say. He spoke in detail about his brother, his conflicts with Madara, their latest battles (with quick annotations of swoosh and swoop for sound effects). And he spoke of his dream, his and Madara's; the dream to build a village unlike any before it, where clans would gather and share knowledge. Where the leader would be chosen based on strength and not blood, where all had a chance to be something.

When she finally finished, Mito had a small smile on her face. It was a good dream, a grand dream that they had. Yet it was just a dream. There had never been a shinobi village composing of more than one clan. It was just not done, as interests were bound to clash with one another. And no one wanted to truly share information about their family or clan. Knowledge was power in their world, and often knowledge of an enemy's secrets would be more effective than the strongest of jutsu. And yet if they were to succeed in their dream, they would be the first to do so. An adventure as she had only read of, a challenge.

So with a smile and a shake of her head, Mito pulled up a scroll and began writing, her calligraphy impeccable, as all other things she did.

.

* * *

.

"Madara!" Hashirama ran toward his friend with a smile that threatened to swallow his entire face. "She wrote to me! She wrote back!"

With a sigh Madara finished cleaning the last drops of blood and bits of entrails from his sword and took a seat next to a nearby tent. They had been battling a rather stubborn and ridiculously large clan for the last couple of weeks. Once the peace between the Senju and the Uchiha was ensured, came the 'not as easy as Hashirama thought' task of making their village dream real. As it turned out, the surrounding clans had no interest of joining up in their village, share their secrets and sing around the camp-fire. So here they were, caught in battle after battle to reign in what they hoped to be future loyal citizens of Konoha.

Hashirama took a seat next to him, and after he rubbed his face clean with a conspicuous-looking rag, he took out two cups from Kami knows where followed by a bottle of shochu. After he gave a cup to Madara, he downed one himself and looked once more at the sealed scroll.

Madara took a sip of his beverage, somehow enjoying the burn of it as it passed down his throat. It was piss-poor quality, but in times like these it was rather hard to find anything of quality; besides weapons of course. Still, it dulled the sting of wounds and helped them find the hope that tomorrow this whole senseless fighting will stop. "Are you going to stare at it the entire day?"

"What if she writes me to say that she won't marry me anymore?"

"She would be smart to say that." He smirked as he saw Hashirama turn blue in terror. It certainly was entertaining to torture him. Much too easy, yet entertaining nonetheless. "Get a grip on yourself. You sealed an agreement with the Uzukage. Even if she were to want to get away from you, she can't."

At that Hashirama calmed down and finally open the scroll. At first his eyes shone with happiness, and yet the longer he read, the more his face fell. Finally he shoved the scroll in Madara's face, a look so bleak that Madara could swear there were storm clouds above his head.

"She hates me."

Unconvinced, Madara took the scroll and scanned it. Her writing was sublime, each stroke put on paper with purpose and elegance. Yet as smooth and as wonderful as her calligraphy was, her words were like finely pointed daggers. The words illiterate and sub-par were mentioned a couple of times, as well as quotes from Hashirama's letter, mentioning to never call her that again. This time he could not help the chuckle that rose deep in his belly. "You really compared her voice with the song of a rooster? No wonder the girl hates you!"

"B-but I love the way it sings! It reminds me that there is a new day, filled with hope for a new battle and a new future!"

"Are you stupid? This is a high born you are talking to, not some fisher's daughter. And even the fisher's daughter would be offended to be compared to a bird that only annoys everyone in the morning and sounds like a high pitched broken record."

Hashirama looked like he wanted to defend his position once more, but then he lowered his head, the gloom returning full force. "As I said, she hates me."

As usual, Madara took pity on him in such moments. Really, he looked like a kicked puppy, and those wet brown eyes did not help his image; or his respect for that matter. If someone were to see him now they would never guess the power-bank that his friend was. Hashirama the undefeated they called him. Well, next time their enemies should bring a pretty girl along and make sure that she threw a couple of insults his way. "Come now, she says some nice things… like see here: You are a visionary and a brave man. That's positive. And she wants you to write back, so it's not that bad."

.

* * *

.

The next couple of months would be like that. He would send her a long and detailed letter that she would cringe over, and she would write back with corrections and some sparse details of her life in Uzushio.

To Mito it seemed that Hashirama was the type to learn by doing and repeating what he did a few times before he got it. So it came as no surprise that it took him around three more letters to understand that comparing her with various farm animals was not wise.

But then the day came when a letter arrived and it was written in another's hand. She knew Hashirama could not have learned such calligraphy in the past month since he last wrote! The strokes were clearly put on paper by a masculine hand, the style precise, and angled with sharp edges. With piqued interest she began reading it.

 _Esteemed Lady Mito,_

 _I fear that your betrothed is indisposed, and will be as such for some time. Fear not, he will live, and in the future he will know to not eat every berry that he sees._

 _It has however come to my attention that Hashirama regularly sends a letter at this time of the month with the late happenings. I felt that the absence of such letter might cause you grief, and wished to alienate any fear you might have._

Mito smiled, knowing immediately who it was that wrote those lines. Uchiha Madara. He had been well spoken and polite during their short visit, so it came as no surprise that he would be the same in his letters. Though there was something else she saw in-between the neat brush strokes and cultured words…. Was it playfulness? Sarcasm maybe? She could only imagine how the interactions between two such different individuals were; undoubtedly interesting.

With a smile on her lips she turned to look at the rest of the disappointingly short letter. Maybe Hashirama had spoiled her with his long and detailed tales?

 _I will not bore you with details of our latest battles, as I am sure there are other things on your mind than which clan has decided to stand up to us this time. However I can say that we seem to make a breakthrough. The founding of Konoha seems now closer than ever, like we can taste it in the air. We will push forward, we will persevere. And maybe when the time comes for you to join us, you will have more to see than a muddy field filled with tents._

 _Yours respectfully,_

 _Uchiha Madara._

With disappointment in her eyes Mito looked if maybe there was another scroll, if there was more. But that was all, barely one page of spiked, angled strokes. A pitty. She enjoyed his writing, enjoyed the way he put the words on paper. It felt natural to read it, like she had to make no effort to understand the words among ink stains and scribbled lines.

Well, she will have to remedy this situation!

With purpose in her eyes, Mito pulled out a small blank scroll and dipped her brush in ink.

.

* * *

.

The scroll was delivered to him personally, and as Madara looked at the Uzumaki seal his eyebrows went up in surprise. Should he give it to Hashirama to read? It was most likely for him… But Hashirama was out with a fever, his body still working to filter out the effects of that half a kilo of poison berries that he stuffed his face with.

And on the other hand curiosity was scratching on his mind. What did she think of his letter? She was usually pretty vicious with Hashirama, so when he wrote to her he unconsciously dug up old calligraphy hours from his memory and did his best to make every stroke smooth. And yet… why did he care? When did he care what others thought of him? If the prissy girl wanted to criticise him, then she could do it all she wanted, he would not care!

Finally curiosity won and Madara retired to his tent to open the letter.

 _Dear Sir,_

 _I fear that the abbreviated version of the past month's happenings will not do. If you wish to write in Hashirama's stead, then you must rise to the expectations._

 _Of course, without the mistakes and please spare me the sound effects._

 _I eagerly await for your response._

 _Mito_

 _PS: Make him drink Plantain tea and he will get better in a few days._

Madara smirked. The girl had guts; he had to give her that! He wondered if she would be so daring in person, the image of her small frame trying to look intimidating making him chuckle.

Fine, she wanted a story, he will play along. Hashirama had always spoken of great victories and glided everything with a screen of polished gold. He will give her the truth, and hopefully it will cure her of the nonsense idea that war was glorious.

.

* * *

.

The scroll came a few days later and it took Mito by surprise. It was not only much larger than the one before, but this time it bore the bold Uchiha seal on it.

She felt giddy, excited that her little petulant ruse had worked! So with quick motions she opened it and began absorbing that angled spiked script.

It took her almost half an hour to go through it all, and when she finished she dropped the scroll on the floor by her feet. She had been such a fool, she felt like she could slap herself. She had believed all of Hashirama's stories, believed because he looked so innocent and seemed so honest. She thought they were winning the war and that the ninja of that region began understanding each other. She believed that in spite of everything she knew, believed it because she wanted it to be true.

But it was not.

If what Madara said was right, then they were losing as many men as the other side and the clans did not seem to find it in their hearts to ally with neither the Uchiha nor the Senju. They seemed to break through lately, but at this rate it will only be a capitulation of the weaker clans, not really an alliance. At this rate they were going to build a village filled with people that were waiting for the best time to murder them in their sleep. They were taking them by force, and it was bound to fire back at them.

She read the scroll once more, looking for some clue, something that could be done. After reading it a second time, Mito brightened up. There, he was saying something about a strange beat creature plaguing the lands and killing shinobi from both sides. If this beast were to be removed as a service done by the Uchiha and Senju clan, then maybe the other shinobi clans will see them as something more than conquerors!

She quickly pulled out a scroll be wrote back, the ideas already forming inside her head. If they agreed to this, she could go ask Ashina-sama if she could make the sealing herself!

Little did she know that her heroic escapade would be the cornerstone that sealed her fate…and that of another.

* * *

 **A/N: Sarcastic Madara? Why not? :D I really see him like this. Subconsciously I am channeling a Naruto and Sasuke bond there, but then again they are reincarnations or Hashi and Madara, so why not?**

 **Next up: Mito displays some serious Fuin skills and leaves a certain someone very impressed.**

 **Reviews are love!**


	3. Adventure

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I hope this makes up for it, and hopefully the next chapter will come faster. I know that initially I wanted to show some of Mito's skills here, but it went in another direction. Maybe in the next one!**

 **Thank you so much for all your comments!**

* * *

-Adventure-

 _All my life I was raised to think, know and believe that I will be cherished for my manners, my appearance and my ability to act flawlessly in any social circumstance. My father was a political councilman and frowned upon the life of a ninja. Sure, he was a sealing scholar in his own right, but he liked to think of the Uzumaki gift as more of a theoretical capability rather than practical._

 _I did not mind that. In this world there are fighters and there are scholars, and in a strategical and political battleground there was none as sharp as my father. But I was not content with the role he had assigned to me. I always wanted more and although I had made peace with the idea of being some nobleman's elegant tea server, I did not like it one bit. I wanted adventure! I wanted to put my vast knowledge to the test!_

 _You can imagine how excited I was when I realized that I was about to get my fill of both._

 _._

* * *

 _._

"Ashina-sama, please, I beg of you!" Mito stood before the Uzukage in a perfect bow, her eyes trained on his tabi socks. "I am more than capable to do this, and surely my future husband will take care for my safety!"

Uzumaki Ashina looked at the girl before him with a stern face. She was a skilled seal master, despite her young age, but she was still a child… a baby even in his eyes! At almost sixty years of age Ashina was in the prime of his life by Uzumaki standards. By comparison, Mito at her 15 and half years was nothing but a toddler.

A toddler that was slowly getting on his nerves with her insistence.

"Mito, I have a deep respect for your father, he is a dear friend of mine. And that is the only reason why I have not thrown you out by now. But you have received my answer the last six times you asked! This is too dangerous for you. As much as you are skilled in sealing, you are not a fighter!"

The girl, barely a girl anymore, still not quite yet a woman, straightened her spine, looking at her leader with a solemn gaze. "I understand where your concerns lie, Ashina-sama. But I have a duty to these people, to my future people. What sort of wife will I be if I do not give my all to aid my husband?"

She would not give up, she would not give in! These thoughts gave Mito courage to look stand her ground. A few good seconds passed in a staring match, a battle of wills and stubborn personalities, until Ashina finally sighed.

"A good wife would know her place." He then dismissed her with a lazy wave of his arm. "You will take Kou with you, as chaperone."

"But…"

Ashina's voice was like thunder. A very exasperated thunder. "In the name of all sacred girl, know your place! You not only want to go there in some foolish adventure, you want to go unchaperoned? Have you lost all senses?"

Mito knew a lost battle when she saw one. So she bowed, swallowing her pride and calling this a win as she graciously accepted to be escorted there by Ashina's second son, Kou. Truly now, she had no problem with Kou as a person. He was perfectly lovely and a very capable warrior. It was simply the idea that even outside the limits of Uzushio, even if she were off the island, she was not free. Well, in the end it will be a small price to pay. "I apologize for me outburst Ashina-sama. I would be honored to be escorted by Kou-sama."

"You leave at daybreak."

Mito smiled, but kept her bow low as the moved backwards from the room. "Yes, Ashina-sama."

As soon as she was out the door, her smile turned into a full-blown grin. She was going on an adventure!

.

* * *

.

When Madara saw the scout run toward their camp like there was an army at his heels, he knew something had happened. No one ran so fast to bring trivial news. So when the man reached him and did not start talking immediately, Madara's patience was… tested.

Just the previous day he received a letter from Mito written in a less than perfect script. In all the months she and Hashirama had corresponded, he had never seen anything less than utter perfection in her strokes. Hashirama, in his utter lack of personal boundaries, was more than happy to share his fiancé's letters with him. He had claimed that he wanted them to get along, but Madara suspected that he simply did not want him to be left out. Which was… truly beyond him why his friend thought like that. What did he plan, that he will sit there and hold his hand forever? What a silly thought…

But as he had seen her latest letter, Madara could see beyond her words; she claimed she would discuss with the Uzumaki leader about their beast problem, but he could see more than that. It was as if he could read the excitement in her strokes, and it did not bode well. Apparently the girl was under the impression that she had found the solution to their problem.

From one letter.

And now she was hell bent on solving that problem for them! At first he really did not plan to give her words much meaning. After all, he had met Uzumaki Ashina, and he was really not the kind of man who would let a girl like her just prance around all over the land and… solve problems. So he put the issue out of his head, made sure that Hashirama was almost drowning in plantain tea as he planned their next attack.

But slowly, a seed of doubt entered his mind and took root.

What if the little nuisance really did convince the Uzukage? She convinced him to do her bidding, and nobody convinced Uchiha Madara to do anything. So if he had fallen for that, would the stern Uzukage fall as well?

The question did not give him peace, so when he saw the scout, Madara envisioned the worst. The scout's silence did not help a bit.

"Talk!" he barked, making the man jump.

"Sir, two people have been spotted at about two hours travel distance…."

The man seemed reluctant to say anymore, so Madara felt the need to remind him who he was talking to. In the blink of an eye his Sharingan had activated and was glaring menacingly at the slim scout. "And?"

"One of them was a woman sir, a red haired woman."

Something akin to panic came to his mind. "Was?"

"They were attacked sir, by some of the enemy clans."

The scout did not even have the time to look surprised. Once second Uchiha Madara, second in command and right hand of their general was glaring at him and the next he was… gone.

Madara did not think that he had ever moved so fast in his entire life. Nor did he think that he ever cursed so much. If Hashirama were to hear that this intended had been lured here by the stories he told her in a **personal** letter and thus found her death at the hands of some no name idiot from clan 'I don't give a shit', his life was forfeit.

He had no illusions over his friend's strength. Oh, he envied it, he hated it and admired it at the same time, but he knew for sure that even with the damn eternal Mangekyou, he could not hope to kill Hashirama. He had tried and failed, owing his life to Hashirama's stupid honor and friendship he felt for him. Not to be understood wrongly, he also had an attachment to the Senju leader, but he was a shinobi who could put his feelings aside as he thought of the bigger picture.

Still, if something were to happen to that pretty slip of a girl, attachment or no, his head will be on a spike decorating the highest point in Fire country. So with more speed than Madara had ever thought himself to possess, he was approaching Mito's last known location.

What his Sharingan saw made him skid to a stop and just stare.

She was… fine.

The man by her side was obviously a warrior, his leather armor with the swirling Uzumaki symbols hugging his muscular chest and strong arms.

As for Mito, well he wasn't sure the apparition before him was in fact the same Mito he had seen all those months ago. Gone were the gentle movements, gone were the demure looks. Before him was a different person, and for a moment Madara was stunned.

She wore a rather practical kimono, split to the sides to allow for movement, with loose pants underneath and a leather chest armor tightly secured to her waist. It was nothing like the highly formal and elegant kimono she had worn that day. And her hair, it must have come undone in the skirmish for it was now floating in the wind, giving her a wild, untamed look. All in all, Madara was not even sure that this was the same girl!

As Mito turned to him with eyes like daggers, Madara knew that this girl was trouble. He would have to be careful. And in his decision of being careful, he was just about to turn her around and take her back to Uzushio himself if needed be, when the last person he wanted to see came in a cloud of dust and a bellow of noise.

"Mito-chan!"

It seemed like Hashirama was finally up and about, running at full speed toward them, his chocolate brown hair billowing behind him.

Mito's eyes widened at the incoming presence, especially since he showed absolutely no signs of slowing down. Noticing the change in attitude, Kou stepped in front of her, his taller frame and broad shoulders completely hiding her presence.

As he reached them, Hashirama finally stopped, trying to look left and right over Kou's form at Mito. "Mito-chan, what are you doing here? I dreamt that I saw you, and now you are here! But…" Suddenly he stopped and turned to look at Madara with a serious gaze, his voice losing the enthusiastic tone. "How did you know to find this place?"

For the hundredth time that day Madara cursed. How much more trouble would this girl bring him? He should have never answered her letter, should have never entered this game, hell he should have never looked her way!

But before he could come up with an explanation to this whole mess, Mito stepped from behind Kou, her features once more schooled and gaze level.

"Hashirama-dono." She bowed respectfully, her back straight as she bent from the waist. The crimson strands of her loose hair fell over her shoulders and Mito fought a blush at her state. It was unheard for a lady such as her to be seen in public with her hair undone. It made her feel exposed, improper. But, she reminded herself that she had wanted adventure, and it seemed that a life of adventure was anything but proper.

As she stood she saw Hashirama flash in front of her and grab her hands, an earnest expression on his face. This time the flush did come to her face, and so did a look of utter mortification.

How could he just… grab her like that?

"Mito-chan…" Hashirama looked over her face, drinking in her features and marveling at her beauty. She really was something else, and with her hair down like that she looked so much more approachable. He knew that he shouldn't have grabbed her hands like that, but his head was swimming and he felt drunk on her presence. Or was he just sick?

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his vision turning foggy. Suddenly he didn't feel so well. His stomach was turning, bile rising in his throat and with a look of panic he realized that he was going to be sick.

Maybe he shouldn't have stood up…

From a few meters away, Madara watched the scene unfold. One moment Hashirama was holding her delicate hands in his calloused ones and surely giving her that puppy eyes look, and the next… well the next thing he knew Hashirama was down on all fours, vomiting all the tea he drank….

On Mito's shoes.

Angry was an understatement. Uzumaki Mito was mortified, horrified! She had no words for how she felt, and if it weren't for the fact that Hashirama seemed to pass out a moment later, she could have sworn that she would kill him with her own hands. Alas, a twinge of worry penetrated the red hot fury in her veins.

She was grateful when Kou lifted the tall Senju leader from the ground, although she did not care much for his low chuckle.

Madara approached her with a condescending smirk. Really, it was hard to act all formal when she looked a mess, her face flushed and eyes alight with anger. "Welcome to the camp."

Mito gave him a withering glare, but it did nothing to dispel that smirk of his.

Was he mocking her?

How dare he?

She came here for… why did she come here? Her thoughts were a jumble and it was only the months of meditation with Shirai-sama and her absolute self-control that made her lift her head, straighten her back and look the infuriating man in the eye. "I have come here to offer my assistance, Uchiha-dono."

The use of his clan name, spoken in such a formal tone reminded Madara loud and clear who she was, and more importantly who she represented; or rather who she wasn't. She wasn't someone to be teased by sarcasm, she wasn't someone who he should smirk at, and she sure as hell wasn't someone he should send letters to!

The smirk was instantly wiped from his face, his tar colored eyes hardening. "With all due respect lady Mito, you should leave."

"No."

No? What did she mean by no? "Lady Mito, the camp here is not safe, as you may have already noticed…"

If her spine were to be any straighter, it would have surely snapped. Her grey eyes were as hard as steel, and Madara wondered if the genteel, well behaved lady he had seen last time was just the social mask she had worn for their sakes. She took one decisive step toward him, passing by him by a hair's breadth.

"I have come here to offer my assistance with sealing the beast Uchiha-dono, and I shall do what I came for. Have a good day." And with that she moved past him, her gait elegant and decisive as she practically glided over the upturned grass and mud of the road.

* * *

 **A/N: It seems like Madara got to see another side of Mito, and despite his thoughts, there are sparks.**

 **Oh I know, poor Hashirama just can't catch a break! But I assure you, I love him! He is a ray of sunshine, and Madara is... well Madara :D**

 **Let me know what you think!**


	4. Strategies

-Strategies-

 _I did not believe the horrors of war until they see I with my own eyes. The songs and stories never speak of the grim truth, coating everything with a thick sheen of gold that has girls go dreamy eyed and inspires the fighting spirit in young men. But war is cold, merciless and merciless._

 _Someone once told me that war makes beasts of men, twisting their essence into something cruel and misshapen._

 _I did not believe it until I saw it with my own eyes._

 _._

 _._

As evening fell over the camp, the sudden arrival of Lady Uzumaki Mito (and her no less important chaperone) was done making a buzz. Among battle weary ninja such news held little importance.

Still, for one person in particular, this news continued to be a problem.

A potentially great problem.

They were all gathered in the large tent they usually used for meetings. Hashirama had finally come to his senses, and after half an hour of apologies toward his vexed fiancé, they had finally managed to install her in a free tent and call this meeting. Everyone who mattered in the war was present.

Hashirama stood at the head of the table, Madara at his right side, Tobirama at his left. Further down, to Madara's side was Tsuko, the lieutenant of the Uchiha forces and next to Tobirama stood Touka, the lieutenant of the Senju assault team. At the other side of the table, with her hair now tightly gathered in her signature twin buns was Mito, a determined look on her face. Two steps behind her, with a menacing look and sharp eyes stood Uzumaki Kou, second son of Uzumaki Ashina and Mito's temporary chaperone.

"Now that we are all gathered," began Hashirama, feeling at ease in his role. Somehow, there at the head of the table he was another person, more confident, serious and capable. "The lady Mito's travelled a long way to our camp from Uzushio and is here to assist us with the recent rampaging beast problem."

Madara tensed, his hands balling into fists by his side as Mito gave a triumphant look. He was sure that if she were a different type of person, she would be grinning right now, but this was Uzumaki Mito, always controlled, always poised.

 _Except when she looks wild, her hair wiped up by the wind…_

He squashed the thought as soon as it came, focusing once more at his friend's words. His friend, his good friend!

Still, although Madara held a good deal of reservations regarding Mito's arrival and offer of help, he managed to keep his mouth shut. Tobirama had no such need for restraint.

"This is a bad idea, brother."

The look Hashirama sent his younger brother was one that Mito had not thought possible. There, at the head of the war table, her intended was commanding respect and power. He was no longer silly, he was no longer stumbling over his words of actions. He was a ruler, and it radiated from every pore in his body. When he spoke, his voice was clear, commanding.

"Why is that?"

"Allowing Lady Mito to step in for the sealing is beyond dangerous." He leaned against the large map pinned to the table, pointing to an area of clustered pins. "The beast's location is right in the middle of the warzone. Our troops are engaging in skirmishes on the right and left flank, but there have been incursions in the southern territories, making passing difficult. We are stretched thin as it is, and have no remaining men left to send a platoon with her."

Then Tobirama looked at her, his unnerving burgundy eyes measuring her. "No offence Lady Mito, but you are no fighter. Even with your guard, it is not safe to send the one tying our alliance with Uzushio and the Uzumaki in such a dangerous place."

One look at Hashirama told Mito that he would not let this go so easily. She savored the idea that he could see the importance this task had to her… and she basked in the feeling that washed over her at his determination to do as she pleased. As she looked at his chiseled face and suddenly stern eyes, Mito thought that maybe, just maybe her future marriage was not such a bad idea, and that there was a chance out there for Hashirama in her eyes. After all, any woman out there would be flattered to have such a powerful man fight for her wishes. She will just have to work on his manners… and behavior, and calligraphy.

"I will go with her brother, no need to send a whole platoon." He said, confidence booming in his voice.

But there was a reason why Tobirama was in charge of the battle strategies. He was a man driven by cold hard logic, and he knew that with Hashirama being sick for so long, the morale of the troops had gone low. One more battle with his older brother absent could mean their defeat. "Absolutely not. You may not realize that since you've been in bed for the last two incursions that we had, but the morale has steadily gone down." He then turned to look at Madara. "No offence Madara, but while you're a great warrior, you don't have the…"

"Hashirama flair?" said Madara sardonically.

A dusting of color graced Tobirama's high cheekbones. With a short cough he turned back to the issue at hand. "Right… in any case, not having you in battle again would be catastrophic for the morale."

Mito felt conflicted. From Madara's earlier letter she had realized that the war they were waging was by far not as adventurous, victorious or glorious as Hashirama had painted it to be. But even from Madara's words she wouldn't have realized that they were in fact at the verge of losing… at the verge of losing their dream, the very glue that kept these two great clans together. Determination filled her once more. She could not let that happen! And deep inside Mito was sure that sealing this beast would tip the scales in their favor.

Madara watched the entire proceeding with hooded eyes. He clearly saw the despair written on Hashirama's face as his brother presented the cold hard facts, and he could see the barely controlled despair and disappointment playing on Mito's face. For a moment he was convinced that this was none of his business and that he was done with meddling in anything. He wasn't the meddling type, in fact he sneered down at such people, considering that one should have better things to do than interfere in other people's lives. Alas, as soon as he saw Mito's too large eyes lower in defeat and restrained sadness, Madara cursed, his smooth baritone ringing in the quiet tent.

"I will go."

The grin that split Hashirama's face was instantaneous. "See! Problem solved! There is no other man I would entrust with my beloved's protection!" he gave Tobirama a challenging look, shit-eating grin in place.

Tobirama on the other hand was not so easily convinced. "Lady Mito, what are your thoughts on this?"

The man's stern voice snapped Mito to attention, the long hours of social conditioning drowning the feeling of elated happiness she was feeling. With a formal bow she addressed the younger of the Senju brothers. "I have complete and total confidence in my future husband's choice, Tobirama-sama." She then lifted her head, her eyes passing Madara for a mere second before lowering once more in deference. "And I am certain that Uchiha-dono's skill will keep my person safe if such circumstances will arise."

Tobirama sighed, certain that they were all out to shove him into an early grave with their rash decisions.

Seeing his brother's silent acknowledgement, Hashirama boomed. "Then it's settled! Madara, you will leave first thing in the morning! We will make sure to create a diversion on the left flank so that the majority of the enemy soldiers will be focused on us." He then moved close to his friend and clasped his shoulder with his broad hand. "Take care of her, my friend."

.

.

Evening fell and the war meeting was finally over. They drafted battle plans, spoke of future troop movements and of provisions. Through it all Madara paid minimal attention, his thoughts roaring at his sheer stupidity.

What was he thinking? What had happened with his thoughts and decisions of staying away from this woman?

No, this was just a necessary evil. The sooner that damn beast was gone, the sooner she was gone and all would be back to normal. They will fight their never ending war, Hashirama would get back to simply pining over her while he could go and find a bottle of sake or two to erase the stupidity that seemed to grip his usually level head. The sooner this entire madness was gone the sooner he could continue pretending that there was nothing interesting about Hashirama's prissy noble fiancé.

It was with these thoughts in mind that Madara walked back to his tent in the dead of night. And it was exactly those thoughts that disappeared from his head as he saw a figure with crimson hair standing a while away from his tent… his private and personal tent, in the middle of the night where there was no one else in sight.

Was this girl insane?

"Lady Mito." He intoned respectfully, none of his outrage present in his voice.

"Uchiha-dono. Walk with me." Her head was held high, voice leaving no room for argument.

Madara inwardly winced at the formal address. He really did not like being called Uchiha-dono. His father had been Uchiha-dono, and his father was dead, killed by his arrogance and weakness. He was better than _Uchiha-dono_. But he did not voice his complaints, aware that for a girl of noble education such as her, she found shelter in formalities, especially in a hostile terrain such as this.

 _She should not be here!_ He thought vehemently, but followed her fluid gait nonetheless.

Mito did not look at him, but she was hyperaware of Madara's presence by her side. He was tall, his spiky black hair giving him a few extra centimeters and adding to the imposing figure he struck. For a moment she felt intimidated, but that moment passed underneath the Uzumaki-specific fire that burned through her veins. She was Uzumaki Mito, and she will not bow down to anyone out of anything but politeness! "Why did you offer yourself to accompany me?"

For a moment Madara was speechless. There was no answer to her question, and certainly no proper answer to the accusing tone she spoke in.

Why did he offer himself? Because she clearly wanted to go!

No… that was not an appropriate answer.

For the first time in a long time, Madara was speechless. This was an opponent he could not defeat by conventional ways, and Mito clearly had more experience in these kind of battles. So he did the only wise thing he could think of and kept his mouth shut.

The silence grated on Mito's nerves. Was he not even going to grace her with an answer? She could see his tense demeanor clearly, see how his jaw was clenching and unclenching in what she could only believe was anger, how his eyes were narrowed in disgust. Did he think her so incapable? Outraged and more determined than ever, Mito spoke, her words like vitriol. "Uchiha-dono, if your offer of assistance has been made simply to mock me or worse, send me back home, then you are dismissed from your promise. I came here for a reason, and I will fulfill that reason whether it is in line with your beliefs or not."

She turned on her heels, ready to walk away and leave a very stunned Madara behind her.

Before she managed to take one step away from him, the stupor fell from him and he found his voice. "Lady Mito, you came here with a purpose. I will help you with that, but in return you must swear to never return to this camp until the war is over."

"Why?"

"As I said before, a war camp is no place for a lady. Here men become monsters and humans lose their humanity."

She gave him a level look, the fire of the torches casting an eerie glow over her fathomless steel grey eyes. "And what of you, Uchiha-dono?"

A smirk graced his lips before he could even think of stopping it. "I've never claimed to be anything, Lady Mito. I let my enemies draw their own conclusions."

There was nothing in her eyes to betray the shiver that was making its way down her spine. Mito had been taught better than that.

There was an aura of death and danger around the man in front of her, and she could see how in the heat of battle, the leader of the Uchiha clan could be confounded with a demon of the underworld, his long hair billowing around him, Sharingan red eyes no doubt alight with the heat of battle and bloodshed. There was a cloak of power and control around the him, a whisper of darkness, a touch of fire. Her pulse quickened, and Mito was not sure whether it was in anticipation or fear. She did not want to find out.

"Good night, Uchiha-dono." She did not wait for his reply, simply slipping away into the night, the light of the torches no longer gracing her features.

.

.

The coming morning found Mito almost trembling with trepidation. She had barely slept last night, thinking of the coming day, reviewing every jutsu she knew in her head. After three helpless hours spent twisting and turning she gave up on sleep and spent the better part of the night creating five different sealing jutsus for the beast.

Depending on the strength of the beast, a stronger or particular type of seal would be necessary, but Mito envisioned the amazement on everyone's faces (no, she did not mean Madara, or at least she told herself that) when she simply saw the beast and slapped the seal on the ground, capturing it in one go.

By the time she had finished coding and memorizing the fifth seal, Mito agreed that she had went overboard with it and decided to meditate until the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon.

Now as the early morning rolled by, Mito was in full battle gear, her hair pulled in her signature two buns, the comforting weight of two large scrolls on the small of her back. She was ready for anything.

"Mito-chan." Came Kou's pleasant voice, his presence just outside her tent. "We are ready to move out."

She stood, a mantle of calm falling over her shoulders.

She was Uzumaki Mito, and she will prevail.

She walked out in the frigid air of the morning, her gait certain, head held high. She gave Kou a polite greeting, choosing to uphold manners. Although her protector and friend always overstepped them, choosing familiarity over protocol, Mito would do no such things outside the safety and familiarity of Uzushio. To the third member of their party, Mito had only a steely gaze to offer, righteousness and determination shining through every pore in her body.

With a raised eyebrow, Madara nodded in Kou's direction, and they turned to move out.

"Mito-chan!" the sound of Hashirama's voice made her pause.

He was dressed in his battle regalia, making him imposing, bigger, and more dangerous. There was a layer of something, something that made her look in almost fright at his tall frame. But then Mito saw the easy smile playing on his lips and that thin sheen of fear washed over her, left behind under the gaze of warm, brown eyes. And then he grabbed her thin wrists and all genteel feeling left her as she stiffened at his impudence.

Hashirama was blissfully oblivious to her glower, his earnest gaze taking in her features. "Promise me you will stay safe."

How could she remain impassive at such earnest concern? How could she remain upset in the face of such sincere feeling? Truly, she could not. So as she carefully extracted her wrists from his large hands, Mito's gaze softened and she gave him a small bow, a smile gracing her lips. "Have no fear, Hashirama-sama. I shall return unharmed."

.

* * *

 **A/N: well, this will be fun!**

 **Reviews are love!**


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